


Alone

by Kristina_Angelina



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: And I do mean later lmao, And I do mean very, Angst, Bakura's Past, But there may be tiny bits of humor later, Sadness, This is VERY angst-y, atem's a hottie i cant hate him dammit, by pharaoh i mean atem's father, dayum, emphasis on that, poor Bakura ;w;, really Atem gets all the love, that title doe, that too, the poor guy's mom get killed in front of him and you want me to sympathize with the pharaoh, the worst past of all pasts, these tags are dumber than Bandit Keith, tragic past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-02 05:14:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5235545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kristina_Angelina/pseuds/Kristina_Angelina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haven't you ever wondered what turned Bakura into such a cruel, sadistic being? Haven't you ever wondered why he hates love and friendship? We all know what happened in Ancient Egypt that fateful night that sparked his hatred; but what if there was something more?</p><p>This is the story of a young Thief Bakura as he struggles to survive without family, friends, love, or kindness. How he struggles to survive alone.</p><p>(also posted on Fanfiction.net and Wattpad.com)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alone

**Author's Note:**

> This... *clears throat* isn't the happiest piece of trash you'll ever read. Not that I'm implying you read trash. But, keep in mind Bakura didn't have the brightest past, so watch out hunnybunches.

"Mama? Mama!"

A little boy cried out, tears trailing down his cheeks at the sight of his wounded mother. Blood soaked her tan robes, her violet eyes wide and unmoving.

"Mama, mama! Wake up!" The boy cried again, shaking his mother desperately.

"She's dead, kid," a deep male voice announced uncaringly. "No use in shaking her rotting corpse."

The little boy blinked at the unfamiliar voice. Who was this man? What did he mean his mother was dead? She wasn't dead... her eyes were open. Dead people's eyes are closed.

"Can you wake her up?" he asked innocently, turning to face the mysterious man.

He was dressed in clothes Akefia -- for that was the poor boy's name -- had never seen before. He had only dreamt of wearing clothes that beautiful. His mother often said the Pharaoh's court had the most beautiful clothes she had ever seen; but she said some rich people were extravagant and only cared about their money. Akefia didn't want to be so selfish.

"Kid, she's gone," the man spoke again, this time with an inkling of sympathy in his voice. The poor boy didn't know what had happened to his dear mother.

"She... she isn't!" Akefia protested, his small hands trailing through his mother's soft silver hair. "She's right here! She, she's just asleep, right?"

"You could say that," another man snorted as he stepped into the room. He grinned at the confusion and slight fear on the little boy's face. "Little rat, your mother's never going to wake up, so stop trying and accept it. Be a man, would you?"

"She will wake up! She will! She will!" The tanned child rocked himself back and forth in a comforting manner, like his mother would as she held him in her arms and cooed sweet nothings into his ear. "Mommy's just asleep... right, mommy? Aren't you?"

He poked her with a child-like innocence, unaware of what had befallen the innocent woman. Suddenly, he screamed as he felt strong arms wrap around his waist. What were they doing?! He wanted to see his mommy! She... she was going to wake up soon! Wasn't she?

"You'd make a great slave, child," the man holding Akefia laughed at the look of horror painted on the child's face.

"NO!" he screamed, trying to pry the man's arms off of his small body. "NO! Mommy! Help me! Please don't let them take me Ummu! Ummu!"

"Shut up."

A loud slap suddenly ended the little boy's tirade, echoing through the room. His tanned flesh had visibly reddened from the harsh gesture, and tears floated in his soft violet eyes. He dared not say anymore, lest the man hit him or his mother.

He did not call for his father either, for the man was finding his family food and drink. He had no siblings to protect him.

He was alone.

**Author's Note:**

> sad right 
> 
> I've posted this on three sites. IT HAS TO GET NOTICED ON ONE OF THEM - ignore that, but really, please comment and tell me what you think. This is only a preview, fyi.


End file.
